Jon waited in a leather chair in the main lounge on the sixth floor of Building C. The lounge was just a few doors down from the entrance to the Advanced Programming Division. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the arms of the chair. So far he had spent the entire day waiting and he was getting pretty sick of it. He was extremely annoyed that Balis had not seen fit to give him a security pass for the Advanced Programming Division. Harry had passed through the double doors into the domain of Big Moe, but when he had tried to follow, two armed security guards intervened. One of them accompanied him to the lounge area and instructed him to wait.
As he sat in the leather chair, Jon thought about all the times in his life he had sat staring at a monitor after booting up his PC. If he added up all those hours, how many days of his life would that add up to? Today was pretty much like that. He might as well have spent it staring into an empty screen.
According to Harry, there was much preliminary work required to re-install and initialize his new operating system. “Before I can even start,” he had said, “I’ve got to run through a whole series of validation checks to make sure George Ludwig hasn’t hosed it up again.”
“Are you sure your new operating system will work as you expect it to?” Jon had asked. He tried to relax the worry lines on his brow.
Uncharacteristically, Harry slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jon-Boy. It’ll work, no question.” Then he disappeared through the double doors into the Advanced Programming Division.
Shortly before six o’clock, Jon heard the sound of raised voices. He walked over to the door and peered down the hallway. George Ludwig was standing just outside the Advanced Programming Division.
“What the hell do you mean I don’t have clearance?” he shouted. “My office is in this section!”
“I’m sorry,” said the security guard. “Mr. Balis has given strict orders that we are not to let you in today.”
“That son-of-a-bitch!”
George Ludwig stood glaring at the two security guards as if taking their measure before storming the citadel. He muttered something Jon couldn’t make out, then stomped his foot like a six-year-old and stalked angrily away. Jon found Ludwig’s thunderous expression unsettling. The man looked like he was ready to kill someone.
Jon stood in the doorway following the man’s progress. What have I set in motion? he asked himself.
An hour crept by, and then two. Jon tried to pass the time by looking through old copies of the Smithsonian scattered on the table next to his chair. He flipped through the pages but nothing registered. An endless series of “what ifs” were running through his head. What if he was fired? What if he lost touch with Lettie? What if the test worked, but Harry was unable to implement Shor’s Algorithm? What if the test worked, but he didn’t like his new position at HTPS Industries? What if George Ludwig knew about his role in setting up the second test?
But behind these myriad questions was an even larger one. What on earth had Harry been talking about when he spoke of a quantum computer that was sixty million years old? If it were anyone but Harry, Jon would conclude his bizarre claim had been the ravings of a lunatic.
At twenty after eight, Jon heard the murmur of voices coming from the hallway and jumped out of his chair. When he looked out the door he could see two technicians walking down the corridor. He listened closely to their words.
“The increase in processing speed is just too hard to believe,” the first technician said.
“I checked out the benchmarking software very carefully before the test. It was spot-on when I tested it before the initial load,” the second technician answered.
“There must be some variable we’re not considering,” the first technician said. “An increase by a factor of a thousand is just not reasonable.”
The second technician scratched his head. “Well,” he said, “we’ll know for sure when they run the weather simulation program. We’ll have validation to the eleventh decimal position.”
The men disappeared around a corner and out of earshot.
Jon returned to the lounge and, with a sigh of relief, sat down again. What he had heard gave him hope. The thousand-fold increase in processing speed was exactly what Harry had predicted. The big test now would be the weather simulation software. Lettie had told him something about this just the other week. One of the uses for Big Moe was running weather simulation software to make long-term forecasts. A long-term forecast would tie up Big Moe for days at a time. If they ran the simulation software with the new operating system using the same parameters that were used for a previous test on the old system, they would get a real-time test of the speed of Harry’s new operating system.
Another hour passed before Jon again heard voices from the corridor. He went to investigate and saw John Balis and Harry Sale standing outside the double doors of the Advanced Programming Division, surrounded by technicians. Jon had never seen John Balis so happy. The man looked positively buoyant. Harry, on the other hand, was his usual impassive self. Jon could tell that his mind had already moved on to other things.
One of the technicians turned toward Harry, his wide-eyed visage shining with awe. “I just can’t believe the processing speed. Your new OS has turned Big Moe into the world’s most powerful machine.”
Harry’s arms were folded nonchalantly. “Not too shabby for a classical computer,” he said.
The technician was taken aback. “What other kind of computer is there?” he asked.
An enigmatic smile flashed across Harry’s face.
John Balis shook the lead technician’s hand and said, “Excellent work, Sam. You and your crew can go home now.”
“Thanks, Mr. Balis,” he said. Sam and the technicians disappeared quickly down the corridor, leaving Jon and Harry alone with Balis.
“Harry, I want to apologize for suspending you. We were too hasty. And we listened to some bad advice.”
Jon was surprised by the apology. He didn’t think that apologies were part of Balis’ management style. By “bad advice,” he was obviously alluding to George Ludwig.
“There’ll be a substantial bonus in your next paycheck to compensate you for any inconvenience, Harry. And that’s from Benton Reeves himself.”
Balis turned toward Jon. “You did well to come to us, Jon. Report to Building A on Monday. We’ll take it from there.”
After an awkward pause, he added, “Well, I guess that about wraps it up, gentlemen. Thank you for your time.”
Harry stopped him. “If you don’t mind, I really think the load balancing was somewhat short of optimal. I’d like to tweak a few things and get it right on the button.”
“Of course, Harry,” Balis quickly responded. He gave Harry a tight smile then turned to leave.
“Don’t wait up for me, Jon,” Harry said. “I’ve got a million things to do.” He winked. “And it ain’t about load balancing!”
It was after ten o’clock when Jon walked through the parking lot to his car, feeling curiously empty. He had burned the entire day trying to set this up. It had been successful and yet somehow he had gotten the short end of the stick. He almost resented seeing Harry disappear through the doors to the Advanced Programming Division. He had put everything on the line for his friend, and what was his reward? Not so much as a thank you. The whole experience was disappointingly anti-climactic, save for the fact that he was still employed.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he thought about giving Lettie a call to tell her the news, but it was too late. Just thinking about her comforted him. Maybe he would invite her over to his place for dinner next week. Well, he thought, At least that part of my life is going right.